


Cold Murdering Assassins

by Shadow_Chaser



Series: Letters Home [12]
Category: Assassin's Creed, Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate History, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Connor's back in the mix of the storyline, Episode s03e05 Hypocrisy Fraud and Tyranny, Gen, Rated T for Connor's ability to mow through Redcoats, Start of the AC3 Benedict Arnold DLC Missions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-24
Updated: 2016-06-24
Packaged: 2018-07-17 23:55:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7291303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadow_Chaser/pseuds/Shadow_Chaser
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Connor is hunting for Charles Lee in the aftermath of the Battle of Monmouth and discovers that his prey is also being hunted by none other than his former ally Benjamin Tallmadge.  Season 3, Episode 5 "Hypocrisy, Fraud, and Tyranny" through Connor's eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold Murdering Assassins

 

Jacob Zenger and James Colley had not reported much as to Charles Lee's whereabouts since the disgraced General's dismissal from the Continental Army, but that did not prevent Connor from making bi-weekly trips into York City to check the dead drop for their reports. At the same time he helped with efforts to thwart British efforts to maintain order in the city. He had made it clear to his fellow Assassins that his alliance with Washington and the Continental Army was over, but the fight against the Templars was not. It had taken his former recruits a few weeks to adjust, their initial loyalties clearly to the Patriots instead of the Brotherhood, but they had all adjusted well. They understood his reasoning and they understood what it meant to be an Assassin against the backdrop of the American revolution, fighting against the Templars.

Even so, they all knew that while the formal alliance with the Continentals was over, the Templars were still controlling the British – so efforts to stymie their plans and their schemes were still carried out. Now, it was a way to flush out Lee – and if it meant thwarting the British in their war against the Patriots, then so be it. Connor had no doubts that Lee had immediately fled to British lines, but where he had fled to was another question.

Zenger and Colley had been sent down to the southern states to assess and cultivate contacts for the war effort. They had not reported anything regarding Charles Lee. Chapeau was still based in Boston and had not heard any whispers while Duncan Little made no mention of Lee potentially fleeing into British-Canadian territory. Clipper Wilkinson also made no mention of Lee in Pennsylvania, Maryland, or New Jersey. Connor had sent him down there knowing that the sharpshooter was the best of all of them at blending in and taking down a target from further away than any of them. He had hoped that Lee would have been in Pennsylvania or New Jersey after his court martial, and Wilkinson would have injured him enough for Connor to collect him – but that was not the case.

Instead, he was following Dobby Carter's lead. She had reported whispers that the Rivington Corner Tavern had seen some unusual activity of people skulking around at night; coming up from the cellars, carrying burlap sacks and bundles that looked rather heavy. There was also the sharp odor of ink about the place – as if James Rivington himself had printed hundreds of leaflets and the paper, but distribution had not gone up. She reported that none of the paperboys were even carrying more than their usual load.

Connor had managed to ambush the last boat before it had left the docks while Dobby had distracted the guards and found that all of the sacks contained Continental dollars. Questioning one of them men that had been set to distribute them, he had found out that they were intended to flood the market with the counterfeit bills and lower the value of Continental dollars. It concerned him, especially since he was using both poundage and dollars to fund his information network and to purchase supplies for his Assassins and for the Homestead. But the more immediate concern was that this plot reeked of something the Templars would do. In fact, it reeked of Lee and his wily ways to try to get back at what had happened in Monmouth.

Connor had immediately ordered Dobby to torch the money while he set off to follow the rest of the boats up the Hudson River.

He followed them at a discreet pace, hoping that wherever they landed, they would be able to lead him to Lee's hiding place. This was contested territory near Fort Westpoint, and Connor knew that it was an ideal place for someone as slippery as Lee to hide in – trading in favors for protection, playing both sides of the war. It would just be like Lee to examine his handiwork before spreading the counterfeit money all over the states to demoralize them and drive down the Continental dollar.

A very small part of him whispered to warn the Continentals of what the British were doing, especially since he knew that this was something of a great concern to his former ally Benjamin Tallmadge, but he quashed it. Tallmadge had made his allegiances clear – that he would follow Washington time and time again, choosing the man over the tenets of the Creed. And while a part of Connor lamented that a fellow kindred spirit who could have had so much potential in the Brotherhood had thrown it away, he was aware that Tallmadge had spoken the truth when they had first met. The man wanted no part of the Assassin Brotherhood for this exact fear – choosing the Creed over his personal loyalties.

Connor shook his head as he ran across the treetops; if this matter would lead him to Lee, then there was nothing else to concern himself over. With Lee gone, the Grand Master would have no one behind him and his influence over the British would wane. The war would come to a swift end and the Patriots would have their freedom. His people would be safe and their lands would be untouched. He paused, catching himself on a branch as he saw the faint glow of lanterns start to split off in the river, some going towards smaller inlets, others continuing upriver. He frowned. There was no way he could follow two forces.

He quickly activated the gift that his mother said had been given by the spirits and found his surroundings awash in a hazy glow of greys and whites. Focusing his attention on the boats, he saw them outline in a faint reddish hue, a sign that they were his enemies and concentrated further. He needed to find the one that would have information for him- There! One of the boats that was still heading upriver had a faint glowing gold outline. Letting his sight return to normal, Connor followed his target, stealthily leaping through the trees for another mile or so until he stopped short, watching as he saw two of the boats head towards shore.

He let his vision flicker into his gifted sight, the Eagle Sense, counting the amount of red-hued enemies he would have to kill or disable before he reached the informant. He counted around twelve men in each boat and by the shores of the river, he saw the faint outline of civilians. They were not red-hued, but rather were bright white. Innocents and clearly not a part of the operation though he could tell that they were waiting for the boats to come in. Smugglers then, he supposed as he studied them. There was a chance if he ambushed one of the boats that all of them, including the smugglers would turn instantly red, enemies-

The flickering faint blue could have been missed had he not been so observant, but nonetheless it caught Connor's attention as he turned his head to the right and blinked, surprise filling him. Hidden behind trees and overturned logs on the hill that crested down towards the banks of the river, were the faint outlines of blue-hued allies, at least six of them. From his vantage point, he could not see who they were, but the fact that they glowed blue, made Connor pause.

He let his vision slip back to normal and cupped his hands towards his mouth. He trilled the faint call of a great owl towards the direction of the blue-hued allies. Were they from Kanién:keh? From one of the allies of the alliance of the region's tribes? He paused to listen, and not even a second later, heard the hooting of an owl, denoting that there was at least one of region's tribesman nearby. One of his own would have answered with a different animal call, but a general owl's call was used among the six tribes that allied themselves with each other against the British and French oppressors. However, what was even more curious was that he saw the faint movement behind a tree before someone started to climb up.

Connor watched as the person climbed up, slightly unsure of the footing, but managed to scramble up into a branch before carefully moving over, seemingly gaining more confidence to pass through the trees with ease as he got closer. Through the faint moonlight that filtered through the evergreen branches and browning leaves, Connor could see that it was a man coming towards him...and was dressed in the very familiar colors of blue and gold.

“Tallmadge,” Connor greeted neutrally as Continental officer and head of Washington's intelligence stopped near him. There was a small giddy expression on the man's face before it gave way to slight trepidation – as if he had just recognized how high off the ground he was in and what he had just done.

“It's...been a while...since I did something like this,” the officer carefully backed himself against a stump and seemed to relax a little more now that he was not fully perched on the edges of a branch. “Connor, I thought that was you,” the man greeted, sounding a lot friendlier than the greeting he had given him.

Tallmadge's eyes gleamed with the brightness of a predator on a hunt and Connor immediately surmised that the other man must have gotten some bit of intelligence and information from his own network to be out here.

“I need that man alive,” he pointed towards the man who was clearly in charge of unloading the counterfeit dollars.

“So do I,” Tallmadge nodded once, his expression grim, “That's Lieutenant Gamble and I need to know where the other boats went.”

“I do not know where,” it was not exactly a lie, but neither did Connor feel like telling Tallmadge the whole of the truth. He still did not trust what the man reported to Washington, even though he seemed eager to see him here. Tallmadge trusted him too easily, Connor scoffed, the Old Man's words of wisdom ringing in his head. The last time both had parted from each other it was at pistol and blade point. He wondered if Tallmadge had forgotten it – weapons pointed at each other was normally not forgotten.

“The smugglers are Patriot-leaning. They will help us,” Tallmadge continued as if he had not heard him.

Connor only gave him a look before gesturing with his chin towards the other boat that had been clearly hidden behind the brush, but was visible from the trees, “Your smugglers would not have seen a second raiding party should you have sprung your ambush.”

The intelligence officer made a small noise of frustration as he peered over his shoulder to see the second boat with men jumping from it with their wares. Connor studied Tallmadge for a moment, clearly seeing that the man was planning something as he absently rubbed his chin. He looked worn, a little more exhausted and older since they had last met at Monmouth. He was also clearly favoring his side and it told him that Tallmadge had been recently wounded. It seemed that it had been a serious wound considering that he was paler than usual. The corner of his eyes crinkled in pain, but it seemed Tallmadge was ignoring his wound in favor of completing his mission. It also told Connor that the fact that Tallmadge had been willing to ascend to the treetops and meet him when he was still wounded meant that he was sincere in his desire to start anew. And that was something that unsettled Connor. His trust in Washington and by extension Tallmadge had been broken when he had discovered the General's duplicitous nature in what had happened to his village. He was sick of being manipulated and given only the barest of information to help further the goals of others and knew that Tallmadge operated in the same way.

He was not blind to the fact that when Tallmadge had approached Achilles all those months ago, it had been an attempt to recruit him as a source of information, to be drawn further into the schemes of the Patriots. While he had his own recruits and sources of information, Connor made it clear that they were to serve the Brotherhood, the Patriot cause secondary to the Creed. With Tallmadge, it was the opposite – Tallmadge wanted him to serve the Patriot cause and even withheld information from time to time. He would have been used when convenient and Connor had no doubt that when it was inconvenient he would have been cut off and thrown away.

But now... Connor mentally shook his head and jerked his head towards the second boat, bringing the other man out of his thoughts. “Rally your men. I will handle the second boat. I will question Gamble first. He may have information about Charles Lee.”

Tallmadge's lips pressed into a thin line, seemingly warring with something internal before he nodded once. “All right,” he agreed before turning and gingerly climbed down from the tree.

Connor watched him land, wondering if Tallmadge had orders to prevent him from questioning Gamble first, but put the thought aside as he turned and hurried across the branches to a better vantage point. He did not care for whatever orders the other man had been given by Washington. He was going to find Lee and kill him. Still, he did acknowledge the fact that Tallmadge had learned a little more about the art of stealth as he had not heard him land or scramble back to where his men were positioned until he heard the quiet _thwip_ of an arrow arcing through the air before one of the boats caught fire. It was followed not even a second later by the reports of musket fire.

“Patriots on me! They are Redcoats!” Tallmadge's shout echoed in the air and Connor leap into action.

He threw his rope dart into the first man and leap backwards from the branch he was on, the momentum hurling the man into the air where he choked to death. Rolling forward as he landed, he knocked into the next soldier and quickly wrapped the other end of the rope dart around the man's neck, securing it by stabbing him in his shoulder before letting him go. The man went flying into the air as counterweight, the snapping of his neck audible over the sound of musket fire and cries of those who had been shot. Connor drew out his tomahawk and slammed it into the face of the next one, blood gushing out in a fountain of black-looking ink, while he drew out his pistol and fired across the dead man's shoulder, killing the soldier behind him. He threw his pistol aside and pulled out his tomahawk as he twisted and swung it into the legs of a soldier, sending him to the ground. The soldier's bag of counterfeit money scattered to the ground and was stained with blood by the cleaving finishing blow Connor dealt to him.

Rolling up from his crouch, Connor threw his tomahawk, sending another soldier to the ground, dead, before reaching out to skewer another in the head. He twisted his body to block the fire of muskets and felt the balls impact the body of the dead man he had used as a shield. He pulled out his blade with a wet sounding noise and drew out his pistol to fire a double shot at the last two soldiers who had tried to fire at him. They both rocked back at the same time and fell to the ground, dead.

Just then, a familiar grunt of pain rang through the air and Connor looked over to see Tallmadge rocking back from a brutal kick to his side, having personally gone after Gamble on the burning whaleboat. He could see that the blow had stunned him, more than likely where his wound was, and Connor was about to move to help him when he saw Tallmadge charge forward again. He was successful in grappling with Gamble as the two wrestled for control over a knife that had been in British officer's hands. Connor found himself moving to help Tallmadge, knowing that the intelligence officer, for whatever minimal training he had, was clearly outmatched by what Connor recognized as Templar training in Gamble.

However, even before he got a few steps, there was a slip of hands and the two collapsed on top of each other. Connor scrambled towards them and stopped as he saw Tallmadge had been the clear winner, blood foaming from Gamble's mouth. “Where are the others?!” Tallmadge shouted, his eyes chipped with fury.

Gamble only smiled and choked on his blood before someone brush passed Connor and reached over to pull Tallmadge back.

“Ben, it's too late...” the other man said and Connor recognized him as the bearded man who always seemed to stick like a burr in Tallmadge's side during the few times he had seen the intelligence officer. He did not know his name, but Connor met the man's sharp hard gaze on him with a neutral one of his own. The man jerked his head once before looking back at the dying Gamble.

“W-Where-” Tallmadge's breath hitched as he stumbled a step back, holding his side, his expression a furious grimace of pain along with something that seemed personal. It was a look that Connor recognized – something had happened between Gamble and Tallmadge. The Templar-trained assassin must have hurt someone close to Tallmadge...and it seemed also the bearded man too as he saw him pull out a pistol and point it at Gamble's face.

“For Sackett you bastard,” he heard the other man intone before he fired his pistol. The echoing report of the pistol should not have startled Connor, but nonetheless, he jumped a little.

Silence reigned in the clearing save for the sounds of the wounded and dying.

“I'm sorry, Connor,” Connor did not realize he had been lost in his thoughts until Tallmadge spoke up into the silence.

He looked up to see Washington's man slowly limp towards him, still favoring and holding his side. The bearded man shadowed behind him, eyes flinty and wary.

“Hey Ben-”

“It's fine,” Tallmadge held up a hand to stop the other man from saying anything else. “I know you wanted to question Gamble,” Tallmadge addressed him again, “and I'm sorry. I can give you what I know about Charles Lee. He was taken away by a man named Haytham Kenway who is the Grand Master of the Templars.”

“You've met Kenway,” Connor stated and saw Tallmadge nod once.

“Kenway promised to keep Lee out of the war for however long it lasts,” Tallmadge said and Connor's eyes narrowed as he heard the shaded truth behind the words. Washington had negotiated with his father and had the gall- He blew out a breath, trying to calm himself against the ire that rose in him. Tallmadge was doing him a favor by telling him this, he repeated silently to himself and saw that the other man had stopped talking, his posture and expression wary.

“Thank...you,” it was an effort to say those words, fury still rolling around him, but he saw Tallmadge acknowledge the thanks with a cautious tilt of his head. Connor pursed his lips for a second before deciding to tell him what he had observed, “That man, Gamble, was Templar-trained. Your skills have improved.”

Something that looked a little like sadness seemed to flicker through Tallmadge's eyes before he nodded once, “Thank you...I...I hope we are able to work together again, Connor.”

“Perhaps,” Connor really did not want to involve himself in Washington's affairs anymore, now that he knew that Lee was certainly under his father's protection, but it was the least he could say to the helpful information he had gotten from Tallmadge. With a curt nod, he turned and headed away from Moodna Creek, intent on returning back to New York to coordinate with Dobby and her informants on where Kenway was hiding now. He would find Lee, no matter what it took.

 

~END~

 


End file.
